Adventures of Harry and Pansy
by Visible
Summary: So we have fun together. Sometimes they're really random, but we have fun. A series of one-shots concerning Harry and Pansy.
1. Toasts in a Booth

**Adventures of Harry and Pansy**

_by Lylian_

**One**

**Toasts in a Booth**

* * *

Harry was sitting in a booth at a restaurant munching on his food when she decided to bother him. He was having fettuccini alfredo with both chicken and shrimp, a meal he would only allow himself to order while dining alone (his former girlfriend, Ginny Weasley, had once told him it was very feminine, and he never ate Italian with her ever again). 

With an eagerness he reserved only for this specific meal, Harry reached for the tail of a shrimp and put it into his mouth, savoring the delicious taste. He was in the middle of chewing when Pansy Parkinson made her appearance.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" she had asked, and regardless of his answer, she took a seat.

Harry looked up from his meal to see Pansy remove her shades, her eyes never leaving the television above Harry's head. He had purposely sat with his back to the telly so he wouldn't have to watch the game. In reality, Harry loved watching Quidditch matches, but this one, the Montrose Magpies versus the Falmouth Falcons, did not particularly strike his interest. Draco Malfoy was playing for the Falmouth Falcons, and Harry was not about to watch him win for the fifth time this season. But of course Pansy Parkinson would be interested; so interested in fact, that she took no notice of who exactly she had sat with.

"Excuse me," Harry started, while pushing his food away in distaste (not to mention embarrassment). Pansy took this as an invitation to eat.

"Oh! Don't mind if I do," she replied, following Harry's pervious moments in grabbing a shrimp tail to devour. Her eyes flew straight back to the screen.

Harry opened his mouth to answer with an angry indignation when Pansy began, "Oh no, you dirty bastard. Get the hell off his tail!" and all the while not glancing in Harry's direction at all.

Harry had jumped a few inches off his seat before realizing that Pansy was indeed not talking to him, but to the players cobbling one another on the field.

He grinded his teeth together before telling her, "Could you please watch the game somewhere else?" With Pansy screaming obscenities, Harry was surprised that he could understand the words himself.

"NO! What a foul _mud_pie! No, no, no. To the left! His left is open! Ah, shit," Pansy groaned and took a seat back down. The keeper had obviously caught the quaffle. "Now they got the refs involved."

She stuck her head into the comfort of her arms to mourn her loss. Harry though had no idea what hat caused her to become so extremely upset, but he honestly knew that it was not his problem.

"Um…Pansy? Could you please just—"

Her head shot up. "How did you know my…?"

Harry could see her eyes adjusting and realization dawning on her facial expressions. "Oh. _Oh_. Potter."

"Pansy."

She immediately straightened up and said, while trying to charm him with her smile, "It's _the_ Harry Potter. I haven't seen you since we graduated Hogwarts. Been years. How _are_ you?"

"You ate my shrimp."

"So sorry about that. I didn't know it was you."

"…So you'd rather eat the food off a random stranger's plate?"

Pansy smile sheepishly and shrugged.

The voice on the telly began to speak again, and Pansy's attention left Harry.

"The refs have come to a decision. Haversackering foul on Tigas. The game is back in session!" the announcer declared.

Pansy was once again out of her seat and oblivious to her surroundings. (By now, Harry was beyond embarrassed.)

"GO TEAM MALFOY, GO!" Pansy yelled. "The Wronski Feint, do the Wronski Feint!"

Harry sighed, grabbed a fork and began his meal again.

"Ugh!" Pansy moaned in frustration. "You're not the one that's supposed to fall," she said before gasping. All of her negativity disappeared. "YES! Yes! We won! Draco caught the snitch! Yes!"

"What's new?" Harry grumbled into this chicken strip.

"We _need_ to celebrate," Pansy cried, grabbing on to Harry's arm excitedly. "Waiter," she called. "Bring over a bottle of your finest mead. We won!"

"I'm not going to—" Harry started.

"Don't worry your pretty little head over it, Potter," said Pansy, patting his hair down as if he were an adored pet. "It's on me. We won!"

Harry originally was going to say that he wasn't going to celebrate Draco Malfoy's winning, but hey, who would pass up free mead?

"You say that as if you didn't expect them to win. The Falmouth Falcons have been first in league this entire season," said Harry bitterly.

"Oh yes, but you see it goes much deeper than that. The Falcons haven't beaten the Magpies for 23 years and," she whispered conspiratorially, "don't mention this to reporters, but Draco's right hand is fractured."

Harry was confused. "Why would he be stupid enough to play with a fractured hand? Something like that could be mended in less than five minutes."

A devious smirk emerged from Pansy's face. "Well, I sort of told him he couldn't do it. And, of course, with Draco Malfoy's enormous pride and huge ego, he couldn't _refuse_ proving himself. I even told him he wasn't allowed to place a pain relieving charm on it. Just look at his face."

Harry turned his back and, true enough, Draco Malfoy's distorted face was covered with sweat and pain as his proud teammates raised Draco's right hand up, the one which clutched the snitch.

Pansy laughed mirthfully. "Oh, he's _such_ an idiot! But now I do owe him a hefty dinner. All he could eat. Ah well."

The waiter brought by a bottle of mead along with two glasses. He filled both to the brim even when Harry signaled him to stop; the young man was too busy smiling back at Pansy.

"Thank you _so_ much," said Pansy, smirking still.

"My pleasure. Can I do anything else for you?"

Pansy gave him a once over. "No, I think I'm perfectly fine as it is."

When the waiter left, she watched his back for a while. Harry, nearing his breaking point, grabbed the glass and chugged. This caused Pansy to cry out, "No! Don't drink yet. We need to toast."

"To what?"

Pansy brought up her glass. "To Draco Malfoy."

Harry scoffed.

"Alright then. To the Falmouth Falcons."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"…To our reunion?"

His eyebrows rose further.

"How about…to Hogwarts?"

Harry mulled the idea over for a bit. "Fair enough."

They clinked their glasses together in that one booth and drank to their heart's content. It was too bad that Pansy kept refilling his glass. Harry didn't even remember getting to his flat that night or finishing his fettuccini alfredo. All he saw when he woke up was a foot with toes polished pink. He didn't ask, and she didn't ask. They were thankfully both fully clothed. Harry got off the floor he had been sleeping on. She grabbed her belongings, blushing profusely, and left in a hurry. She had forgotten her coat, but she'd be back. He was sure of it. He closed and locked the door.

And that was the end of that. For now.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Each chapter is a random story of Harry and Pansy's lives. Not all chapters will be connected. Some don't even have a point. They're just daily things that make life what it is. Sometimes mundane, sometimes fun, and sometimes just life.

_Posted: July 19, 2007_

_Updated: September 7, 2007_


	2. Enemies United

**Adventures of Harry and Pansy**

_by Lylian_

**Two**

**Enemies United**

* * *

_Boom, boom, boom!_

Harry opened the door.

"What the hell is this?" Pansy Parkinson yelled, walking through the front door.

It was eight in the morning. Harry had come home at three the previous night from Hermione and Draco Malfoy's wedding. The night was hard and stressful, keeping his emotions in check. He was tired, and he was not prepared for this.

Harry's eyes crossed as he tried to read the paper that was shoved too close to his face.

"Umm…the_ Daily Prophet_?"

Pansy growled, "Look at the picture on the front page."

Harry's eyes focused, and he grabbed the newspaper. "Oh shite."

"Yes, pretty much." She walked into his apartment even further, scowling at his frayed, brown sofa. Then she turned her wrath on him once again. "Why didn't you tell me that reporters were still on your tail, following your every move?"

"Well, it's because…I didn't know," replied Harry lamely. He was still staring, bewildered, at the front of the _Daily Prophet_. The last time he had appeared in the paper for any sort of news had been over a year ago. (That did not include his appearance in Witch Weekly for the Top Ten Most Eligible Bachelors. He had no say in that.) It seems the public never got its fill on Harry's _amazing_ life.

_Or maybe_, Harry thought, _it was because I've been doing absolutely nothing exciting or noteworthy since then_.

Yes, he had defeated the Dark Lord, and yes, he had been at many of the Ministry's promotions of the New Era. But this was slightly over the top.

"How did they get this picture?" asked Harry, ruffling his messy hair.

"That's what I'd like to know." Pansy clicked her lighter, lit her cigarette, and consciously decided that the brown sofa wasn't horribly disgusting. She sat on it, blowing grey smoke everywhere.

Harry finally took a glance her way. "Parkinson, don't smoke in here."

"You just ruined my entire reputation in one moment. I'll do what I like, thanks."

Harry couldn't believe the nerve of this woman. "You talk as if I'm the one to blame!"

"You are!"

"You did it too!"

"Yes," she said roughly. "But I didn't know we would end up on the front page of the _Prophet_ the next morning. That's your fault for being so _bloody_ famous!"

Harry shook his head, muttering angrily, "As if I had a choice."

"You did defeat ol' Voldie, didn't you?" Pansy looked away from him and took another drag on her cigarette. She pulled on her hair, still hair-sprayed thick and curled from last night, as ashes fell on her wrinkled, ivory dress.

"You're still in your dress robes," stated Harry, taking her appearance in.

"I was so busy screaming at the owl that delivered this to me," Pansy waved to the newspaper, "that I ran out of my house in this state."

"How did you know where I lived?" Harry asked.

Pansy looked as him as if he was an idiot. "I Apparated you here last night, remember?"

"Oh…yeah," he said, even though Harry could remember very little about the night before.

Harry decided that she was docile enough to take a seat next to her.

"Merlin, what am I going to do?" She seemed almost defeated, stretching her neck backwards.

Scoffing, Harry replied, "If anything, I should be asking myself that question."

Pansy sat bolt upright. "You're Golden Boy. No one will care that much. The public believes that you are, ahem, 'Uniting Enemies' as stated in the _Prophet_. On the other hand, my reputation had just gone down the drain because of one moment of temporary insanity. Fuck!"

Again with the language and again with the puff of grey smoke.

"I'd think this would improve your reputation. Everyone will think you're…changing your ways. Everyone thought that when Malfoy proposed to Hermione."

Pansy's eyes widened. "Ugh!"

"What did I do this time!" spluttered an outraged Harry.

"I hate you. Why do you have to be so bloody famous and so bloody perfect and have the stupidest ideas ever?" said Pansy, then later grumbled, "Why didn't I think of that first?"

Harry shook his head in vexation.

"I don't know why I didn't see it. I probably still have some alcohol in my system. Of course I could use this to my advantage! Oh, I'm such an idiot."

_And a witch (with a 'b') for waking me up at this dreadful hour_, said Harry mentally. He wouldn't dare say that out loud, for he was too much of a good boy, and he wanted to have children some day, thanks.

"Parkinson, I think you're worrying about this too much. Calm down a bit."

"You know what?" said Pansy. "You're right. You're always right. It kind of bothers me sometimes. Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Being so damn understanding. It's irritating," she replied.

"Parkinson, why don't you go home now? This will blow over in a few days." He was exasperated to the point of no return.

"Why?" Pansy brought her fingers to her red lips and pressed the cigarette against them, casually blowing O's into the air.

Finally fed up, Harry snatched the cigarette from her hands and threw it into his kitchen sink.

"I said don't smoke in here."

Pansy was fuming. "You are a downright bastard, you know that?"

In a nonchalant and overly apathetic way, Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Oh."

"That was my last cig," Pansy screeched angrily. "You owe me a new pack!"

"No, I don't," said Harry. "I told you not to smoke in my apartment."

"Merlin's balls. You think you can just push me around, don't you?"

"Um, no. I just told you not to smoke here and you still did. It's my place, and if you're here, you will follow my rules."

"You sound exactly like my parents." Pansy stood to brush off the ashes from her dress. "I'm leaving," she announced, as if Harry should hold her back from doing something so rash.

"Good."

"Prick." Pansy stood up, walked directly towards the only exit, paused, and turned back around.

"Oh, and one more thing," said Pansy.

"What now, Parkinson?"

"Kiss me."

"What?" cried Harry. "Why?"

"Because I don't remember last night's. And it looks like we were both enjoying ourselves."

Harry was at a loss for words.

Pansy continued, "And then I could tell the reporters that it wasn't just one stupid drunken moment. It was two moments, and this time I'm sober, I think."

"You are out of your mind."

"Does that mean you won't kiss me?"

"Well…yes!"

Pansy sighed. "Fair enough. You were probably not that great of a kisser anyways because I don't seem to remember anything extraordinary. To think, Golden Boy doesn't live up to his expectations. Ciao."

Maybe it was because he was sleepy, maybe it was because he had drank the previous night, or maybe it was because Pansy was just so damn irritating. But Harry did something even he did not expect. He brought her close and pecked her lips, softly.

"Try that for a bad kisser."

After the shock had worn off, Pansy's nose scrunched. "You didn't brush your teeth, did you?"

Once again, words could not form in Harry's lips.

"Ew, Potter!" said Pansy in repulsion. "You are disgusting."

"And you are unbelievable!" screamed Harry. "First you barge in at eight in the morning, screaming profanities because of some stupid newspaper that has a picture of us snogging, then you try to tell me that it's all my fault, which it isn't! And you light a cigarette in my house and get upset with me when I throw it out, even though I told you I didn't want you to smoke here! And then you tell me to kiss you. It's unheard of, but I do it anyways, just to shut your royal highness up, then you go and insult me. You are crazy, do you know that? Completely insane! And I'm tired and worn out and have a major hangover. I don't need this right now!"

Pansy enjoyed watching Harry raving like a lunatic, calling her a lunatic. It was funny really.

Just as he took a deep breath to continue on, Pansy grabbed a something small from her purse and shoved it, none too gently, into his mouth.

Harry nearly choked. "What was that?"

"Sorry, love. But you needed a Tic-Tac." Pansy smirked with mirth.

"Yeah, I'm not the only one," Harry glared back at her. "You reek of tobacco."

Pansy brought a hand to her mouth, breathed, and sniffed. "There you go being right again." She plopped one between her lips. "You're taking me out to dinner tonight."

"Excuse me?" said Harry incredulously.

"You heard me, Potter. You owe me for my extreme humiliation. Fiori's at seven."

"And if I don't go?" Harry told her, as she made her way out the door. He wondered how his presence with her in a restaurant could, by any means, alleviate her shame of them together.

"Then I'll just have to tell the reporters the truth about your kissing skills and our time spent together. You know, I think that I'd milk it for all it's worth." Pansy smiled deviously. "I'll see you there."

She left Harry wide-eyed and jaw-slacked at her continued boldness. Her daring rivaled that of a Gryffindor's.

Well, he decided, she did spice things up a bit like only Pansy could. Maybe he'd be taking her up on her offer, Harry thought, tossing the newspaper in the bin before heading to his bedroom to make arrangements for tonight. And it would, no doubt, be a long night.

**ENEMIES UNITED: POTTER AND PARKINSON**

_Former rivals decide to spread the unity by declaring their relationship during the much publicized marriage of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger... (See the above picture for further confirmation)._

* * *

_September 7, 2007_

_Edited: April 1, 2008_


	3. Out in the Courtyard

**Adventures of Harry and Pansy**

_by Lylian_

**Three**

**Out in the Courtyard**

* * *

The courtyard was by no means empty. There were students chatting on the other side of where Harry sat. He watched as the fifth years laughed and sat down in the shade of a tree. From there he lost sight of the two.

Then Harry turned his attention to the top of the tree. A small winged animal swept through the leaves, causing shadows to move along the ground. It stopped at the highest branch and sang to its heart's content.

A quaffle shot past the bird, and it flew in the opposite direction of the rambunctious boys. They didn't care that they were disturbing the peace. They were comfortable with throwing a quaffle back and fourth, laughing when it slipped through one boy's fingers and landed on the ground.

Harry was distracting himself from the projects that he had to continue. Wizarding school had much more writing than was given credit. He had an essay assigned in both Transfiguration and Charms, and he needed to read his text in Divination and answer questions.

At times, Harry really did wish to be completely normal. Schoolwork _was_ completely normal, but this was pushing it. When it came to lessons, he wanted to be anywhere but there.

This bench in the courtyard would consistently provide distractions. There was always movement and a constant flow of nature. He didn't realize how, although riddled with disturbances, it could also provide an atmosphere of ease, of ordinariness.

It was the first time Harry decided to take his work outdoors. The library was a stuffy place, which smelled of murky books and antiquity. It was so silent that it was hard to think without wondering if everyone in your proximity could hear your thoughts.

The common room was always alive with excitement. It was difficult to continue work when every person who passed the portrait greeted you or challenged you to a game of gobstones.

There was no study hall today, so that ruled out another option.

Harry's shared dormitory would have made perfect sense if it was not for Ron and Hermione's bickering about Ron's lack of organization. Ron had apparently lost one of the assignments that Hermione lent him to "check on his answers." He left them without either one noticing.

The sunlight gleamed on the parchment Harry had on his lap, so he shifted to face in a different direction. He didn't expect to be bothering anyone but himself, but as Harry turned he noticed that his bench was occupied by another student.

Startled by her nearness and stealth, Harry searched his mind to say something equally biting and uninviting. He didn't ask for company, but he didn't want to sound appallingly rude as well. But she spoke before he did.

"Did you know we're related?" said Pansy Parkinson, out of the blue.

It took a moment for Harry to register a response. "Really?"

"Yes." Pansy lifted her parchment to eyelevel. "I figured it out just now. My grandmother's sister on my father's side was the second wife of your grandfather's cousin, on your father's side."

"And that makes us?"

"Relatives. Not blood related. It's complicated."

"I see," said Harry. "…Do you know who my grandfather's…cousin's…first wife is?"

Pansy shuffled her notes. "She was a Dora Potter, nee Longbottom."

"I'm related to Neville?"

"Only distantly."

"Hmm. Can I ask why you're telling me all this?" Harry questioned.

"Well, I figured, coz, that we could help each other out. As family, of course."

Pansy smiled widely, so that her teeth shown.

Harry groaned. "I knew you wanted something."

"I don't want anything!" Pansy replied, affronted. "I just thought that family would be there for each other! But, if you're going to be a stiff about it…"

"What is this about, Pansy?" said Harry.

"As newly discovered family and as being related and all, could you, perhaps, do me a favor?"

"No."

"What?" cried Pansy. "But we're family!"

"Not by blood."

"You're terrible. I disown you!"

"That was quick."

"But, but…." She struggled for the right words. "Please?"

"This must be big for you to resort to begging," said Harry as he pushed aside his work. "Alright. Humor me."

"I was told by a…certain someone that I get jealous too easily. And I know for a fact that he'll be walking by in roughly five minutes." She paused to check on her watch and her eyes widened with panic. "Take it back. He'll be passing by sooner than that."

"I don't like where this is going. What do you want me to do?"

"To just let me use you as a prop to make him jealous."

"That's funny. You're openly admitting that you want to use me. Touched, really _cousin_."

Pansy winced as he spit out the last word. "Please?"

Harry gathered his belongings quickly, deciding never to be seen at this spot of the courtyard ever again. "No. I'm not going to be part of your little games."

He stood quickly and Pansy 'accidentally' knocked over his books.

"Oops, silly me," she said innocently.

Nearly growling, Harry got on to his hands and knees to collect everything. It took him a moment to notice that Pansy was standing in front of him, smiling down.

"What?" Harry said.

"This works perfectly for me."

Just as Harry was about to pick up his last book, Pansy, who was standing, kicked the book two meters away.

"Oh, let me get that _Harry_!" Pansy said loudly.

Pansy Parkinson had never in her life called Harry by his first name. It was always Potter or Scarface or some other derogatory and demeaning name. Knowing that saccharine voice as farce, Harry looked to the other side of the courtyard to see Draco Malfoy and his two goons walking past. They stopped abruptly at the sound of Pansy's voice.

After retrieving the battered book, Pansy bent down to where Harry was, leaned in, and handed him the book.

"Here you go _Harry_," said Pansy in a syrupy sweet tone. "You know that I'd do anything for you."

Then all of a sudden she kissed him on the cheek. As Harry's eyes widened at the realization of what was happening, Pansy had the nerve to wink.

The thundering of footfalls behind him did not erase any of the shock he was feeling; it only increased it. But it was great that he was so stunned that he couldn't move, because that way Draco Malfoy's aim was better and spot on. Harry didn't know what hit him.

Much later, Harry woke up in the hospital wing with a throbbing eye and pained jaw. At the bottom of his bed were a Chocolate Frog and a note saying this:

_Thanks cousin. _

Harry decided that he was never going to study in the courtyard again, if he wanted to say safe. The common room, the library, his dormitory were all fine. So long as he wasn't around Pansy Parkinson again. She was one crazy relative (grandfather's cousin's second wife's sister's granddaughter) that he never wanted to deal with.

* * *

_March 26, 2008_


End file.
